<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Tale Of Two Bookshops by jenstraflintlocked</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24040102">A Tale Of Two Bookshops</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenstraflintlocked/pseuds/jenstraflintlocked'>jenstraflintlocked</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arm Appreciation, Multi, bookshop au, well not for Aziraphale but for Jenny and Vastra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:56:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24040102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenstraflintlocked/pseuds/jenstraflintlocked</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two bookshops in London that Anya loves</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Jenny Flint/Madame Vastra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were two bookshops in London that Anya loved.</p><p>One was a proper Ye Olde Worlde bookshop; you could imagine it having been there forever, although how it ever stayed in business Anya would never know. It had stacks of books everywhere, no system of organisation to speak of and odd opening hours, if it opened at all. The odd openings hours suited Anya. As a student nurse at St Thomas’ the odd opening hours were sometimes the only times when she was free. And it was quiet and peaceful and somehow the noise of London only filtered through as a comforting hum, if at all. She loved losing herself among the stacks, surrounded by the smell of old leather and paper. The books never seemed in bad condition or mildewed. Just the good old smell of old books. She wasn’t sure if the owner was gay or not, but she’d seen his swaggering, permanently wearing sunglasses apparently boyfriend waltz into the shop and lounge about the place. They were together, whatever their sexuality was, so what did it matter really? And they never seemed to mind her, even when she fell asleep in a reading armchair one day. The owner had just woken her up the next evening, miraculously in time for her to go home and have a shower and food before her next shift.</p><p>The other one. On the outside it was a standard bookshop. Normal opening hours. Elegant window displays, backed so you couldn’t see inside the shop. That had intrigued her. But the inside also was fairly standard. Meticulously ordered and sectioned books, including an entire alcove of shelves full of LGBTQ ones, which she loved the shop for. Another full alcove of crime novels, which she was less certain about, but she’d adventurously picked up a few and they seemed good. The vintage sets of Arthur Conan Doyle seemed like they’d fit more in her other favourite bookshop, but she assumed it was some kind of special request.</p><p>The counter was a semi-circle, right at the front of the store. At one end it faced the front door and was furnished with a till. At the other, furnished with a computer for administrative work and ordering or looking up books, it faced the door right at the back which led to the warehouse. The warehouse door was always propped open, which Anya thought was a bit slack on both the theft prevention and fire safety front. It was run by two women, one of whom wore a full niqab, complete with veil and gloves and whose name tag declared her to be Vastra. She lounged rather than sat in what looked like a gamer’s chair and served the customers.</p><p>The other woman Anya had only seen once, the day that she’d realised the advantage of the half circle desk was that from her chair, Vastra could keep an eye on both doors with a small swivel of the chair.</p><p>Anya had picked up a book and gone to the till but Vastra, instead of reclining in her usual position and languidly staring at the customers, had been leaning far back in the chair, almost to the point of it toppling over and was staring out the back door. It was hard to tell with a full niqab on, but Anya got the feeling Vastra was smiling. From her position by the till, Anya was able to follow Vastra’s gaze without resorting to such dangerous lean angles and she’d seen her. The other woman. She was wearing black skinny jeans and a black vest underneath a dark blue embroidered waistcoat, her black hair kept back by a light blue bandana. Anya liked to think she was fit, as fit as she could be at any rate, in between working 12 hours shifts on a ward. But the sight of this woman lifting a box of books onto the racking was distracting enough that Vastra still didn’t realise Anya was there for another full minute. When she did, Anya felt the unseen smile turn into a Level 13 Glare, directed fully at Anya. She’d bought her book in the resulting frosty silence then scuttled off and hadn’t been brave enough to go back there since.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anya is forced to face her fears and is consoled by A. Z. Fell</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anya had a very strict policy on never ordering books from online retailers and supporting local businesses. That meant when she needed a very specific textbook for work or her studies, she had to order it in. A. Z. Fell’s bookshop had never looked modern enough to even have heard of a computer, so she’d always relied on the Liber Noster bookshop.</p><p>Until Vastra had caught her ogling the woman out the back and Anya had fled and not returned. But now she required their services once more. She could’ve requested it through the library, but she’d need this one for a while yet. Getting it on loan just wasn’t going to cut it. She’d always live in fear of forgetting to return it on time. And besides, books that she had an inkling she was going to like and want to re-read, she had a habit of buying.</p><p>Which left her either buying it online or…braving Liber Noster. After all, she reasoned as she walked towards the shop, her speed decreasing as the distance did, it’d been weeks now. Surely Vastra would’ve forgotten. And it was egotistic to assume that she’d stood out that much that Vastra would even recognise her. After weeks. Almost two months. The glare had been quite terrifying. She took a breath to steady her nerves and pushed open the door, praying that against all previous experience, Vastra wouldn’t even be working today.</p><p>No such luck. And yes, yes Vastra did remember her. Clearly. Anya withered slightly but it was either this or Amazon and Amazon be damned.</p><p>“Hi!” Her voice had never been that high and squeaky even as a child. “Um. I would like to…order a book?” Why did that suddenly feel like such an unreasonable request to make? She argued with herself. This was a bookshop!</p><p>“Of course.” Vastra scooted to the other end of the counter on her swivel chair. “What was the title?”</p><p>So far, so frostily polite. Anya summoned a little more courage and stepped closer to the counter and said the title. Somehow even the clacking of the keys sounded ominous to Anya’s ears. She swallowed and tried to regain some sense of calm. She could deliver babies for crying out loud. Which, she reflected, they usually were. It was a bad moment when they weren't.</p><p>“That will be 23 pounds 99 pence.” Vastra covered the distance between till and computer in one easy push.</p><p>Anya tapped her card and prayed that it wouldn’t be refused or something ridiculous.</p><p>“Here is your receipt.” Vastra brandished it at her. “The book will be here by Friday.”</p><p>Anya nodded, gabbled a brief thanks and managed not to run out the shop. She sought refuge in A.Z Fell’s shop and collapsed into a leather sofa.</p><p>“You look very frazzled my dear.” The owner himself came over and handed her a cup of tea. “Tough shift?”</p><p>“No! Just…scary ladies.” Anya gratefully sipped at the tea, which was miraculously the perfect temperature for drinking. He tilted his head to one side and somehow it all spilled out.</p><p>“And now I have to go back! And I really didn’t mean to at all! I just wanted to know what she was looking at. And the size of the box the woman lifted was damn impressive!”</p><p>“It really would’ve been better to apologise at the time.” A.Z Fell tutted sympathetically. “I suppose you’ll just have to go back there and collect your book.”</p><p>“I could come with you. Pretend to be your boyfriend. Maybe that’d smooth it over.” A.Z. Fell’s boyfriend had slinked over to hear her tale of woe as well and was smirking at her.</p><p>“Absolutely not, Crowley.” A.Z Fell, Anya reflected, could glare daggers of his own.</p><p>“No. You’re right.” She sighed. “I’ve got to go back. Maybe I can apologise then? It’s my favourite bookshop,” she paused, reflecting on her words, upon seeing A. Z. Fell’s expression, “after this one.” A. Z. Fell beamed at her. “I can’t just stop going. Thanks for the tea and the listen, Mr Fell!” she handed back her cup and fought her way off the comfortable sofa.</p><p>Three days later and her phone buzzed to say the book was ready to be collected. Telling herself very sternly that her fear was irrational, she set off to Liber Noster.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Did Vastra <em>ever</em> take a day off? Anya wondered as she stifled a groan. She’d managed to walk through the door of the shop because she’d convinced herself that <em>this </em>time surely, the lady in the niqab wouldn’t be working.</p><p>“Um! Hi. I’ve…come to collect my book?” she waved the receipt as she crossed over to the desk.</p><p>Vastra took the receipt between two fingers, laid it on the desk and stared at it for a moment, before leaning back in her chair. “Jenny!” she called loudly, startling Anya and making her jump. “Can you come out here a second?”</p><p>So Jenny was the name of the buff woman who worked in the warehouse. Anya gritted her teeth, feeling sweat prickle on her brow. The shop was always warm, sometimes too warm for Anya’s liking and she was currently dressed for the cold winter weather outside. Add in a healthy dose of nerves and she was suddenly wishing that the frosty glare was not just a euphemism.</p><p>“Yes m’dear?” Jenny strode through the door until she stood by the desk, her arms folding. Vastra flicked the receipt up at her.</p><p>“This young lady is here to collect her book, my love. Could you assist her?”</p><p>Jenny’s eyes flicked towards Anya and she grinned. Clearly Anya’s petrified state was amusing to her. Anya gripped the strap of her bag in both hands. If she’d needed any confirmation that the two ladies were together, this conversation was it. Perhaps Vastra had even intended it to be such a confirmation, to ward Anya off.</p><p>“Of course!” Jenny beckoned Anya towards the warehouse door. Anya gulped, shot a terrified glance at Vastra and then followed, her feeling of dread increasing with every step. She could practically feel Vastra glaring after them and suddenly felt angry. It’d been Vastra’s suggestion that Jenny help her out after all. Surely, the other woman could’ve just retrieved it from the warehouse. “Don’t mind if the missus is giving you a hard time. She won’t eat you.” Jenny said suddenly, as she went to the racking and pulled down a large box marked in big scrawling letters “ready for collection”.</p><p>“Oh, no she wasn’t…She uh…you’re married?” Jenny balanced the box on her right hand and waggled the left in Anya’s face. She could see the plain gold band there. She smiled at Jenny nervously. “So it’s a family business?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Jenny’s face split open in a grin. “I guess it is. She’s the only family I got left now. And for her as well. I’m the only family she’s got.” She put the box down, regarded the receipt and then dug Anya’s book out. “Guess that’s why she’s…protective sometimes.”</p><p>“I really am very sorry! I only wanted to know what she was looking at. I didn’t mean <em>anything </em>by it.”</p><p>“By what?” Jenny blinked, clearly baffled. Then laughed heartily as Anya explained. She shoved the book into Anya’s hands, still laughing so hard she struggled to lift the box back up. “Thank you.” Jenny wiped tears from her eyes.</p><p>“What for??” It was Anya’s turn to be baffled now.</p><p>“I never knew she did that.” Jenny grinned and it was mischievous one this time. “I thought she’d just taken it into her head to be jealous. Not that she’d been caught out by a customer.”</p><p>Anya’s expression cleared and allowed herself to give a small smile in return. She got the feeling that Vastra would not be hearing the end of this for a while. “Well, thank you for the book.” She carefully put it in her rucksack and exited the warehouse, nodding to Vastra as she passed the desk. The woman had her chin resting on interlaced fingers and was staring at her, but she nodded back, as if satisfied with the conclusion of the matter.</p><p>It gave Anya the courage to glance over her shoulder as she reached the shop door and saw Jenny had come out to join Vastra at the desk, her arm draped around Vastra’s shoulders. Jenny waved at her. “Come again soon!” she called out.</p><p>Anya dared to return the wave, withered slightly when she met Vastra’s gaze and then ran for the comfort of A.Z Fell, where she spent the next few hours grinning to herself as she read the new book.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I never you stared at me while I’m workin’ in the warehouse.” Jenny said, the moment Anya was out the door. </em>
</p><p><em>“Well, you insist on having the door propped open all the time. I need to keep an eye on you for security purposes. Why </em>do <em>you always have the door propped open?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Security purposes.” Jenny replied simply. “I don’t want you facin’ any hassle from customers and me not bein’ able to see.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think I am more than capable of fending off an unruly ape.” Vastra tutted at her wife’s lack of confidence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Welllll.” Jenny drawled. “Maybe I jus’ like bein’ able to stare at you too.” She pressed a kiss to Vastra’s brow and then strode across the store to the warehouse as the bell over the door tinkled, glancing back to wink at Vastra before she disappeared out the back.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>should I write a conclusion where she comes back? should it become a series? decisions decisions....</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>